


Naurthûl Nín

by KadiRose0101



Series: Naurthûl Nin [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Longing, Masquerade Ball, Sindarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29713953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KadiRose0101/pseuds/KadiRose0101
Summary: Thranduil has always been considered a cold leader and he has good reason to be. Ever since his wife died, he hasn't been able to feel the joy that life used to bring him. When the king goes to visit one of his fellow Elven leaders, he finds a small woman who suddenly brightens his world. Years later, they find each other again under accidental circumstances.Naurthûl Nín. My firefly.
Relationships: Thranduil/Tathren
Series: Naurthûl Nin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183742
Kudos: 3





	Naurthûl Nín

An elf walked through the dense forest around her. It was beautiful and it was pleasant to lay her eyes upon it. Though it was dangerous, she found some comfort. There was the soft sound of birds chirping, the wind blowing softly, and the crunch of her feet on the soil and twigs. She listened to the ambiance as she walked and watched where she was walking.

This elf was named Tathren. She claimed to be a nomad traveling as much of Middle Earth as possible and she occasionally helped those in need. She had been on her own for over a year now and she rather enjoyed the independence. She couldn't quite explain to others why she was by herself and why she had never enjoyed being accompanied by others. There was a reason deep down, but she hadn't fully realized it herself.

It was beginning to get difficult to see outside because of the receding sunlight. The sky was becoming dark and she was growing tired. There was still enough light that she could see around her and determined she should hunt for food before settling down to sleep. She found a low tree next to another and strung her hammock between the two. She then cleared a spot in the soil and lined it with rocks.

She began to wander, gathering some thicker logs and twigs for kindling. As she wandered around her small camp, she felt eyes watching her. She pushed it off though, figuring she was just being paranoid. She would still be cautious, regardless of paranoia or not.

Once she had collected enough twigs and logs, she headed back to her campsite to build her fire. She bent down and began building the fire, still feeling those eyes on her. She looked around concernedly and saw nothing around her but trees. She tried to shake it off again and went back to building her fire.

Once she had a hearty flame going, she grabbed her bow and began to wander, searching for a small animal to kill. Although she was growing tired, she knew food was a necessity if she wanted to survive. She wouldn't have even worried about hunting had she not run out of lembas.

She heard some crackles behind her and pulled her bowstring taught and turned around, expecting to see a deer or smaller creature, but instead saw five other elves with their weapons drawn. She held her bow aimed for the man in the middle.

A wave of dread had washed through her as she registered the situation she was in. She was outnumbered five to one and she was smaller than them. This could end badly if combat began.

"Who are you?" She blurted out.

The man in the center chuckled coldly. "I should be asking you that question. After all, you are on my father's land." He spoke with a slight grimace on his face.

"Your father's land? This is a forest." She exclaimed, astounded by this wild claim. How could anyone own a forest? "Hi na hwiniol."

The man scowled at her. "You should show more respect."

"What forest is this?" She asked, deciding to indulge him if he was going to believe delusions.

"Mirkwood," he spoke proudly and she froze.

It all began to click. The man in front of her was younger and had pale blond hair. He had a bit of an egotistical hot-headed temperament and seemed to hold himself on a pedestal. This must be Legolas, son of Thranduil.

This was concerning to her. She wasn't concerned about Legolas and his ego, but there was another factor. She was concerned because she assumed that they would be bringing her back to Mirkwood and she would have to see the king himself. Her father was good friends with the king and they wrote frequently. However, they didn't see each other often, maybe once a year if they were lucky. The king had visited them once for a week a few years ago. Her father, Faenor, had hosted a masquerade ball during that time and it was a very joyous celebration. It wasn't often that there was a celebration in Harlond, so when there was, the festivities would go on for at least a whole day. Everyone would dress in their best attire and drink and eat to their heart's content. Tathren remembered the masquerade ball fondly, recalling the interesting character she had encountered that night. 

"I'm afraid I'll ask you to come with me," spoke the man who she assumed to be Legolas.

"And if I say no?" She questioned.

"Then we'll take you by force, and I would prefer not to do that." He spoke firmly and she nodded.

She relaxed her position and placed her arrow back in its spot and strung her arrow over her torso. She turned around and started heading back to her small camp. Quickly after, she felt a hand wrap around her bicep, stopping her from moving forward. She clenched her jaw and then unclenched.

"I just told you we would take you by force," the man spoke.

She turned her head to him. "And I am not running. Let me grab my belongings and I will go willingly," she spoke fiercely.

The man released her arm and she continued the short trek back to her camp. She unstrung the hammock from the trees and rolled it up to fit into her travel bag. She put out the fire and went to grab her bag, but one of the other elves had already gone to grab it. They slung it over their shoulder and held it there. She glared for a moment before giving up.

The man began walking and she followed him. The other elves fell into a formation around her. Her anxieties grew as they came closer to the center of Mirkwood. She hated being around any sort of royalty. It reminded her too much of home.

After entering Mirkwood, she was swiftly escorted to the king. They walked over a bridge that leads up a small set of stairs. Once they crossed the bridge, she saw the king. As they came up the stairs, the king came into clear view and she stopped in her tracks. She was both terrified and delighted to see him.

He stood from his throne and proudly stood at his full height. He regally walked down the stairs until he was on the same ground as her. He moved a few feet away from her and looked at her curiously, but still held his cold glance.

"Are you aware of why you were brought here?" He asked in his deep baritone voice.

"No, I am not." She stated quietly while staring into his icy blue orbs.

He started to circle around her. She saw him wave his hand and Legolas left them. Thranduil slowly moved around her and when he was behind her, he began to speak.

"Technically, you were trespassing," he elaborated.

She noticed how close he was standing when he spoke and she flinched a little. He circled back around to the front of her and he was much closer than before. He began to inspect her face and stepped closer.

"I'm sorry. I did not realize that I was on your land," she spoke nervously.

He started to move closer and she kept her eyes focused on his chest. He stopped just a few inches from her and waited for her to look at him but she didn't. He gently lifted a hand and tilted her chin up. Her mossy green eyes looked up at him and he felt his heart stutter for a moment before falling back to its natural rhythm. He recognized those eyes from somewhere, he knew that for sure.

"I understand that you are probably frustrated with me for being on your land, but I promise it will not happen again. I should have been paying more attention..."

As she babbled on and on, he was beginning to put the pieces together. The final piece was her hair. She had this unique coloration of both blonde and ginger strands that blended together into a curly bouncy mess. He remembered that unique hair from a ball several years ago.

She had stopped rambling as he picked up a piece of hair that had fallen over her shoulder at some point. He began to twirl it in his fingers and occasionally looked back to her face. She could see the emotions stirring there as he thought about where he recognized her from.

He reached down to her hand and held it up before placing his palm against hers. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of her hand touching his and focusing on the small flashes of memory that clued him into her identity.

. . . . . . .

The king had been wandering about the masquerade ball conversing with others on occasion and drinking wine, trying to keep himself busy until the ball was over. Several women had asked him to dance and he declined their kind and hopeful offers, disappointing them. 

He spent the majority of his time talking with Elrond and Rínion about diplomatic situations. Even though this ball was technically a party, there was still business being conducted. Eventually, the business conversation had halted and was determined to be left for the next morning.

As they settled on small talk amongst each other, a beautiful woman walked past the three men. She was wearing a light dusty rose-colored dress that fell off her shoulders and her hair fell in wild curls down her back with braids intermingled. Her hair was the most interesting color of ginger and blonde and her ears poked out of the curls. There were tiny white flowers placed through her hair and it looked like there was a diadem sitting atop her head.

He looked in the direction of where she was headed and saw a bunch of children rushing her way. Three of the tiniest ones wrapped around her in a hug and she hugged them back. She turned around, trying to get a look at the two smallest girls and Thranduil caught a look at her beautiful glowing face, the upper half only hidden by a mask. A bright smile lit up her face as she talked animatedly with the children.

He was able to overhear a little of the interaction.

"Which one of us is your favorite, Aunty?" The youngest boy asked, still hugging around her hip.

She threw her head back with a laugh and it was the most beautiful sight. She then leaned down to the boy and whispered something to him. His face lit up and he leaned up giving her a kiss on the cheek. She reached a hand up and ruffled his hair. 

"Glenna bâd cîn naneth," she spoke and all of the children ran off in their previous direction.

She watched as they retreated with a smile on her face. She turned back around and saw the king watching her. A fierce blush crossed her face and spread down her shoulders. A small smile worked its way onto Thranduil's face and if possible her face got redder. She bustled away and went off to find something to do.

He turned to Elrond and Rínion and his smile fell from his face. He attempted to join the conversation again and tune back in, but his mind was preoccupied with the beautiful woman he had just seen moments before. Rínion noticed the King's slightly glazed look and he knew he was thinking of her. Rínion's daughter.

An hour had passed and Thranduil found himself searching for the woman. Rínion had retreated for the night, not caring for parties much, even his own, but Elrond was still wandering around talking to others. The King searched and eventually, his eyes landed upon her.

She was standing off to the side looking rather somber. Her fingers nervously played with the fabric of her dress. She moved her hands and took off her mask, placing it on the table behind her.

If the King hadn't thought she was beautiful beforehand, he definitely knew it now. She had a thin face with high elegant cheekbones and a pointed-looking jaw though still very feminine. Her eyebrows were a pale blonde and were barely visible had they not been so light. She also had a natural tint of pink to her cheeks. Her brows furrowed together as if something had ailed her. Though he didn't know her yet, it troubled him to see her possibly hurting.

Thranduil found himself walking in her direction. Once he was a few feet away, she noticed him approaching her. She looked up with a shocked expression at the man. They simply stared at each other for a moment.

Thranduil took in all of the small features of her face down to the pore. She had soft-looking skin and delectable-looking lips that were a soft pink color. There was a small scar above her lip that lead over the soft skin there. And her eyes. They were a unique green that captivated him. She had soft white eyelashes that fluttered every few seconds.

He held out a hand to her. "Innas ech liltha na nin?" He asked.

She stood shocked for a moment thinking to herself; why would the king wish to dance with me? After pondering, she nodded and held out her hand. She slipped it into his and that same blush from earlier crept back onto her cheeks.

He gently lead her to the floor and spun her so she faced him. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He then grabbed her other hand, holding it in his. She looked up at him curiously. It all baffled her as to why Thranduil had asked her to dance when he had said no to every other woman who had approached him. So she asked him.

"Why me?" She questioned.

He was confused. "What do you mean?" He asked back.

"You've rejected the advances of every woman yet you ask me to dance. Why?" She elaborated.

A smirk played on his face. "You interest me."

She scoffed at his answer. Normally he would be offended by the reaction, but he waited for a response. She looked away from his face, but he could see a conflicted look on her face, so he spoke first.

"You act like you are happy for everyone else, yet you seek and long to be elsewhere." He spoke and her green eyes shot back to his blue ones. "You thought you were hiding it, but you are easy to read." He explained.

"Do you read people often?" She asked.

He chuckled and her heart soared at the sound. "I am over six-thousand years old. I've had some experience," he exclaimed.

"I should learn how to act better," she joked.

It was odd, the dynamic between them. They had known each other for such a short time, yet they felt natural together. It was effortless and they let their guards down for a moment.

He admired her beauty and she fawned over his details. She looked over his smooth face and thick eyebrows. She traced over his bone structure with her gaze and then looked into his deep eyes, trying to decipher the man she was dancing with. He was much better at concealing his emotions, though that mask was beginning to fall with her.

He noticed that she was gently playing with the fabric of his sleeve. While she was looking at the fabric, he took in the rest of her features and her stature. She had some curves to her figure, but she was still slender. She was also shorter than the average height by a few inches, maybe standing around five-seven or five-eight.

He also paid attention to the air around her. Her aura. It was light and kind, yet still cautious and careful. He could tell she was a kind and compassionate person, that she cared for others. It showed mainly in the way she treated others and interacted with them. She was shy in a sense as well and was shocked when anyone decided to talk to her - like she was used to the treatment of being avoided. She didn't seem to let that change her though, she still treated others with kindness.

Her eyes met his again and she gave him a warm smile. His heart fluttered at that smile.

"You are a light in the darkness," he uttered. "Naurthûl nín."

"Le othovar nathol, tol alnad." She spoke, brushing off his compliment.

"No, you are everything," he returned with passion in his eyes.

A small smile formed on her face. "Thank you," she responded shyly, averting her eyes.

The ball was coming to an end and people were departing. Thranduil and Tathren still held onto each other, gently swaying and sometimes twirling around as the music continued to play. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other, too captivated by the other one's presence.

A male guard had approached the two and tapped Tathren on the shoulder. Tathren turned her head and looked at the guard.

"Hethu, what is it?" She asked.

He cleared his throat. "There seems to be an issue at the edge of the city. It's not a large issue, but your presence was requested, my lady." Hethu explained.

Tathren sighed, partially out of annoyance and the other out of sadness. She didn't want to leave Thranduil, especially because he was being so kind. She looked up to the king and he gave her a look of understanding. He knew exactly what it was like to be pulled away from something so suddenly. She gave him a weak smile before turning back to the guard.

"Give me a few moments and I'll grab my bow," she spoke.

Hethu suddenly pulled out a bow from behind him and handed it to her. She looked at him with annoyance. "They said they needed you now," he said.

"And I'm saying I need a few moments. If it is not a large issue, I am sure they can take care of themselves for five more minutes." She spoke in a composed but fierce voice.

Thranduil watched with intrigue at the interaction happening before him. He also tried to determine what her position was based on the questions the guard had asked. He had addressed her as my lady, but didn't know her title and then was speaking to her as if she had some sort of high position in the guard. He wondered what the story was there and if she would say anything about it. He didn't want to come out and ask her directly, not wanting her to think that he was a snob for asking about her rank or standing.

Hethu bowed his head slightly. "Yes, my lady." He spoke before walking away.

She turned back to Thranduil, still in his arms. She looked up at his face and held an apologetic look on hers. "I'm afraid I have to go tend to that," she spoke regretfully.

"I completely understand," he spoke. "We all have jobs we must do." 

He pulled back a little so he could lean down to her, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek and then moving to hold her hand.

"Fuin ver, naurthûl nín," he spoke.

He kissed the top of her hand and squeezed her hand before releasing it. She held her hand to her chest and stood there in shock.

"Fuin ver, ara nín." She responded, before turning to leave.

As she walked away, she turned once more to look at him, flashing Thranduil a smile. A smile grew on his face and he nodded to her. She turned back around and rushed over to resolve the situation.

Thranduil stood there, thinking about the gorgeous woman. Someone stepped up next to him and he looked over to see Elrond standing there. He looked to his friend and nodded at him. Elrond looked at the king curiously, wondering what had been so captivating about the Elven woman that made the king lose his composure. 

"Who is she?" Elrond asked.

Thranduil stood there, a reminiscent look on his face. "I do not know."

. . . . . . .

He opened his eyes, seeing the same woman standing in front of him. Only instead of wearing a flowing dress, she was in traveling clothes and adorned with simple armor and a bow. She was just as beautiful as the first day he had seen her.

"Naurthûl nín?" He asked.

She stood there shocked and he slowly moved a hand up to hold her face. He stroked his thumb over her cheekbone and looked deeply into her eyes. He was struggling to put together a sentence. He was shocked beyond belief that she was her right in front of him. It had been years since he had last seen her. And he didn't know her name, so he had had no way of asking about her.

"I never got to ask you name," he spoke.

She looked at him with confusion. "What?" She questioned.

"That night at the ball, I never asked your name before we parted." He explained.

Thranduil had only ever called her his firefly. He had never questioned her for her name. He couldn't help but blame himself for the mistake. She had been the first person to make him feel something in a long time. The short time they had danced, he felt alive again. She made him feel alive.

She moved her hand up to hold it over his. "Tathren," she spoke softly. "My name is Tathren."

Thranduil let a small smile draw on his face. "Tathren," he spoke and she felt goosebumps run over her skin at the sound of his voice saying her name. 

He moved his hand down to the side of her neck and ran his fingers over the nape of her neck and felt the tension there. He squeezed gently on the pressure points there and he felt her relaxing. Her eyes fluttered shut and she tilted her head back slightly. She exhaled through her nose and he continued to press.

Her eyes gently opened and she smiled softly. She looked away from his face and that same conflicted look he had seen that one time fell over her face. He looked at her with concern. She looked back up at him.

"I am afraid I am acting rather improper," she said. "I haven't been in the company of others for some time."

"You have nothing to worry about," he spoke and she began to relax once again. "You must be exhausted and famished."

She shyly nodded. "I was hunting when the guards found me," she explained.

"I'll have someone escort you to a room. Wash up, eat, and then sleep." He spoke, feeling concerned about her wellbeing. 

Tathren tilted her head. "Are you sure?" She asked. "Not long ago I was trespassing," she joked.

"Circumstances have changed. You are welcome here anytime," he exclaimed to her softly.

She smiled. Just then one of the female guards came up the steps and waited patiently off to the side. He dropped his hand from her neck and grabbed one of her hands. 

"Find me tomorrow when you wake," he said. 

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the smooth skin on the back of her hand. He looked into her eyes as he did so and saw the blush creeping over her cheeks and the tips of her ears. He smiled at her reaction. 

"Sleep well."

**Author's Note:**

> *Sindarin translation for the phrases used in this chapter*  
> Hi na hwiniol: This is insane.  
> Glenna bâd cîn naneth: Go find/track your mother.  
> Innas ech liltha na nín?: Will you dance with me?  
> Naurthûl nín: My firefly  
> Le othovar nathol, tol alnad: You are too kind, I am nothing.  
> Fuin ver, naurthûl nín: Goodnight, my firefly  
> Fuin ver, ara nín: Goodnight, my king


End file.
